Didn't Wanna Do It
by FEARLESS-FightUntilWeDie
Summary: When Wendy is caught cheating on Gregory by the brit himself, Christophe is there to "Comfort Him"
1. Chapter 1

((Ok so this was pretty random cause I was very bored and because this song is awesome. Oh the song this story is based on is: Didn't Wanna Do It by Julia Volkova (Uncensored/Explicit). Enjoy!))

Gregory was heading home after along day. Well, not just one day, three days. The blonde had paperwork that needed to be completed by the end of the week. Three days of no sleep makes you tired. The brit was tired and just wanted to go home. Luckily his girlfriend Wendy was there to make him feel better. She always did. The raven-haired girl either made him something to eat or just mostly did anything he asked her to do. Even if he told her to sit down and take a 5-minute break, she refused. But lately she had been on the phone more than anything. Texting someone. And since Wendy's phone had a code on it, he didn't worry about it too much. Gregory didn't want to call her because the brit wanted to surprise. He wasn't supposed to home for another 2 days.

Sadly, the only thing now missing in Gregory's life was his partner in crime. He had died 2 years back on a mission in Soviet Russia. The blonde missed him deeply. The last words he heard him say were strange and he didn't understand them "No mercy for ze lost, zere's no sootheeng for ze sad. Ze line was never crossed, but I am ze liveeng dead."

Gregory didn't understand any part of it. It confused him but he forgot about it after the first year.

He drove home after cleaning up his office. As he drove, he did as he always did when he wanted to look nice. HE fixed his hair in the rear-view mirror. Everyone said he turned into a chick when it came to his hair. HE so said his blonde; slicked back hair was his "pride and joy". He made himself look clean and the only thing he worried about were the bags under his eyes. They made him look filthy.

After an hour of driving and tidying himself up, he arrived home. Something wasn't right at all. Someone's car was there. It wasn't their regular visitor, Bebe. Her car was a brand new shiny red mustang. This was a Chrysler 200; it was a blackish gray color. Who was that? Surely she wasn't… No of course not! She loved Gregory and He loved Wendy. He wanted to make sure though.

The blonde used his key to unlock their front door, since the raven had locked it. She's never locked the door before. As soon as he opened the door, he heard the upstairs floors squeaking. It was either her walking or she was tossing and turning in the bed. He slowly made his way upstairs, making sure he didn't blow his cover. After climbing their lousy staircase that contained 14 steps, he heard noises. Moans. The hell was going on? IT should have been obvious but it wasn't. He made his way to the shut door and once he was the closest he could to it, he kicked it open. There she was. She was in the bed, with Stan, having sex. Why would she cheat?! They had been together for so long. He was shocked. Once the two making love heard the door hit the wall, they stopped and looked at the doorway, only to see Gregory there. She blushed and stuttered as she spoke to him.

_O-oh. Hi Gregory. _

_You stupid bitch! How could you?! _

_IT not what it looks like!_

_So you're not in bed with my enemy?_

_Umm.._

_SCREW YOU!_

The blonde screamed at her as he began to leave his house. He wanted to be by himself. They had been together since a week after the war ended. He wasted so many years with her. All those years, the presents, memories, everything just went down the drain. He sat on the sidewalk outside. There was nothing there but the road and a telephone pole covered in old rusty nails.

As he sat there awhile, he got used of nobody walking by besides when Stan left. That was about it, soothe British boy was surprised to see a familiar blonde boy named Butters walk by. HE smiled and waved a bit at him. Butters just slightly waved with his fingers. He had a piece of paper in his hand, it had just a little bit of words on it.

_What's with that paper, Butters? _He asked politely. The frightened blonde didn't answer. He just took a green tack and hung it on the telephone pole before walking off in the same direction he came in. The blonde that had sat on the ground scoffed as he ignored him. Then as he walked off, Gregory looked directly at the paper he posted up. It read:

_**Relationship Problems?**_

**Call 69 **

Well that was weird. The brit in orange eyed it for a minute. Was he really going to call that Spam? Yes… The blonde grabbed the phone and dialed the two numbers that were on the poster. It rang for a second and then the line ended. He hung his phone up and laughed to himself. He REALLY DID just fall for that. But then as he wiped his hair from his face, a white car pulled up on the opposite side of the road. The passenger side facing the blonde. He raised a brow and looked at the side. It was just a plain car.

The window rolled down and a boy about the same age as Gregory was driving. He had messed up brown hair and had tan colored skin, a cigarette hanging from his mouth and dark black sunglasses on. No… it couldn't be… was it Christophe? The blonde tilted his head as he was confused and the other moved the sunglasses to his head and smirked to the other. It WAS Christophe. In the land of the living. What was he doing here?

****TBC****


	2. Chapter 2

((Ok this is the second chapter. Use google translate for the phone convo though.))

As he eyed the boy in the car, the brunette just stared back. He didn't talk nor move an inch. Gregory would've said something but was pretty shocked to see him. Finally after about 5 minutes the brunette spoke.  
_Vous comeeng or what?_

The blonde nodded and walked to the car. He trusted Christophe. 100%. But didn't he die on that mission? He was sure of it. He opened the white car door and sat down before shutting it pretty hard. It was hard for him to hold back anger.  
_'Ey! Don't breek ze fuckeeng door!_

_Sorry…HEY! Didn't you die anyway?!_

_I told vous. Eem ze leeveeng dead._

_H-How?_

_Umm… Zat's sometheeng vous doesn't need to know._

Gregory would've spoke up to know how he didn't stay dead, but he didn't wanna make him mad and plus it's been so long he ever been face-to-face with him, so he kept his mouth shut. He hit the gas and headed out of town. Usually the blonde and raven didn't leave town unless she was going to the bar with Bebe and then he just drop her off. He wouldn't touch alcohol, but Christophe would. But as he drove, the brit thought of three things. "What did he mean living dead? And why the fuck Wendy was cheating? How long was it going on?" They spun around as they drove farther and farther away from the town. Finally Gregory spoke up.  
_Why did you come get me?_

_Vous called._

_What? No I didn't._

_69 Stupeed. Oui, vous deed._

_That poster was yours? _

_Deednt I zay zat was not your businezz._

He growled at him. Smart-ass. As soon as they stopped talking again, The Frenchman's phone rung. HE reached in his boot to get it and answered.

'_Ello?_

_Who is it?_

_SHH! Huh?…_ _Je prends__Grégoire__au club__pour faire la fête__. __Sa petite amie__l'a trompé__…__Ouais__je sais ce que__une chienne__…Au Revoir._

He hung up the touch screen flip up phone and threw it in the back seats. Gregory would ask, but he knew how easily it is to make Chris mad.

After 2 hours of driving, they arrived at a house. It was a huge house. Like a mansion almost. On the door was a T written in gold. Now Gregory gets it. Damien bought the Frenchman back. He did have a huge crush on him awhile back, so that explained alot. But why would he come here ? Chirstophe hated Damien's guts. No one knew why, he just did and that's what the two left it at. Once the brunette got out he went in the house, the blonde followed. The inside was huge as well. Expensive furiture and and neat floors. Gregory liked it here, especially since he had a gentle touch, as did the house. The brunette threw his sunglasses and lighter on the couch, after lighting another cigarette of course. There is only one time of the day he doesnt have a cigarette between his lips. When the motherfucker is sleeping.

Christophe went up the stairs, motioning for Gregory to follow. HE did as he was told and followed his partner to a huge room that was at the end of the hallway. It was the bedroom. The french mad man opened the door to his closet and it was loaded down with clothes. He smirked and stepped back.

_Get soemtheeng out. We are goeeng somewhere._

_Where exactly ?_

_Just put on sometheeng zat looks leeke vous are ze bar tryeeng to eg ze beetches._

_NO !_

_VOUS WEEL OR EEL THROW VOUS OFF ZE STAIRCEZE !_

The blonde sighed as he went threw the walk in closet and grabbed a blue shirt and black shorts. After putting the clothing on his body, he walked out and said 'Lets go'. The one that sat on the bed shook his head.

_I did as you said. What's the problem this time ?_

He didn't speak. He just rubbed his chest were a girl's tits would be. He looked down and nothing looked wrong. Then it hit him. That's a girl shirt. He blushed and closed the closet doors behind him so he could change again. This time he put on a black tee shirt and white shorts. After he finsihed applying them, he came out. After Christophe eyed him for a moment, He nodded in agreement. He smiled a bit and sat on the bed next to the other. Once he did though, the brunette got up and walked in the closet. The british boy waited for about 5-9 minutes at the least for him to come out. When he did though, he had on a black tank and his usual pants, only they were a darker shade then before. The blonde shook his head as he followed him down the steps. They walked around the house for awhile. Christophe looked as he was looking for something. Perhaps Damien. After a good 30 minutes walking around, he sighed and went out the front door. He got different car keys though. The brunette got in a converetable this time. The blonde giggled because he seemed to be living in Hollywood. South Park Style. Once he had finished digging around in the back for Damien's ohone, he placed that one in his boots and drove off. Anyone could tell the two phones apart. Christophe's had a giraffe on it and a green camo cover. Damien's was red and had graffiti from his sharpies. A bunch were just 666 or anything invovling the devil or Hell. One though that the Frenchman didn't spot but Gregory did, was 'Damstophe' written in the corner with his black marker. He giggled and Chris shot him a shut the hell up or get punched look. He just looked around as the drove.

Another hour passed and Gregory grew impateint.

_WHERE THE HELL ARE WE GOING ?!_

_Vous weel see._

He sounded so calm. The calm tone in his voice that Gregory hadn't heard since 4rd grade, before he lost his mind. Some people say it was always gone. That's what Christophe said too, considering his mother tried having an abortion by stabbing the baby frenchman with a clothes hanger, then his fear of dogs. He won't admit he's afraid but whenever Gregory sat the dog in his lap, he just sat there and shook, plus screamed as if someone was killing him. He screamed because he wanted off and was afraid to touch it. It made the brit laugh but he felt kind of bad for him, since his mother didn't give two shits about him. Gregory's mother would always treat Christophe like he was her son. So both the mercenaries were heartbroken when she died a few years after the war between America and Canada.

Another long 45 minutes past and he pulled up to a little place that was near the beach. It was a shack almost type of thing and music blared around it. Music that hadn't filled the Brit's ears in quite some time now. Tons and tons of people were there. Christophe smiled just a tiny bit when they pulled up. And then when Gregory figured out where they were, he was furious.

_NO ! I WON'T DO IT !_


End file.
